Lonely
by Nacoda-Lupine
Summary: CrackFic! Eric/Speed, with a little Horatio/OC in later chapters. WARNING: ADULT CONTENT! It had been a bad idea, A really bad idea. He should have never follwed that Speed look-alike into the mist.
1. Mist

None of them are mine. They all belong to Bruckhimer (Did I spell his name right?) Except for Nacoda (Mine!)

If they were, things would be seriously different. I mean, _seriously_ different. Tell me if you guys want me to continue this!

* * *

It had been a bad idea. A _really_ bad idea.

But Eric Delko, CSI for longer then he could count, cop for even _longer_, just couldn't leave the case be like it had. It was eating him alive, piece by piece, the girls broken testimony running again and again in her mind.

'_She said she had been attacked by monsters…and that someone that looked exactly like Tim had saved her.'_ He thought, staring at the evidence. It didn't add up, not a shred of it could translate the story that the girl had whispered.

'_First off, Tim's dead, he couldn't have saved her.'_

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the idiotic idea from his head. Tim _wasn't_ alive, how could he go around saving people?

It didn't make sense.

But…did it have to? Didn't Tim come back, and help him a former case? A case that would still be open, if he hadn't mysteriously risen from the dead, and showed him that one smoking gun?

Eric's therapist had said it had been a relapse.

_"The brain does that sometimes." _ She had said in a almost snooty way of hers. "_It tries to trick you, make you think that the unreal is real. It'll pass, just keep fighting it, okay?"_

But his therapist was gone now. And, the only person that seamed to understand what was going on in that mixed up head of his, was the (somewhat) new SVU detective that had joined the squad, Nacoda ("What did that name even _mean?"_ He often wondered.)

She told him something different.

"_It's going to sound crazy…but you've got to keep it with you. Every time you think you feel him, don't let him go."_ She had taken a great swig of her water, and nodded. "_In my country, we call these things a __Yipuick__, a spirit that is dead in body, but cannot, or will not, move onto the spirit world. They've got a job they have to finish, or they will be stuck in eternity for all time."_

She had leaned forward, and gave him a quick squeeze.

"_Stay strong, my friend. You are destined for something, something __big.__ The gods do not bless us with a Yipuick every day, he apparently has something that he needs to tell you._

_And he cannot go to the spirit world until he does."_

And Eric kept her advice with him. As strange as it was, he suddenly felt better, more relaxed, at ease.

Whenever he felt the cold brush on his shoulders, or soft pressure on his hands, he let it direct him where he needed to go. And 100 out of 100 percent, it was always correct.

But still, it didn't make any sense now. The girl had described someone that looked exactly like Speed.

She even got his trademark _scowl_ correct.

But the way she had described him, beyond his facial features, was downright _disturbing_. She said he was covered in dark bruises and drenched in blood, and his eyes glowed this unnatural glow. His hands were like claws, and were stained a deep red. His feet were bare, and seriously cut up.

Her savior had worn a sleeveless shirt that had been torn at the stomach and had gouges in it, and she could clearly see deep gashes in his flesh. She had a hard time describing everything else he wore, and ended up having to draw the rest: Her sketch was something like a gypsy skirt, that was badly torn, and cut to the thigh at one side.

Last time he checked, Speed hadn't worn skirts. Nor had he…Eric looked back down at the manuscript of her words:

"Crawled around like a feral cat…Odd." He read aloud, looking up from his notes.

Whoever this guy was…he was a definite freak.

But a freak with a…he looked back down at his notes:

"It looked like a long bamboo rod with a curved blade at the end."

What she had described sounded a lot like Glaive or a Naginata, both amazingly lethal weapons if used properly.

If Speed was alive, he must have been in some serious trouble to have all those wounds, and be wielding such a dangerous weapon.

So Delko packed up his Hummer, and drove out to where they had found the girl. A deep mist had filled the area, and it choked the scenery. Miami was not really known for it's fog or chill, so it seamed…out of place…

Soon, he couldn't even see where he was going, his fog lights not cutting it, his lowlights not doing the trick. He considered stopping the car, and turning around and going back to his loft, to sleep the night off.

But something pulled him deeper into unknown territory. So he drove.

And drove, and drove, and drove.

"This is ridiculous," He snarled, staring at the clock. It was ll o'clock, near witching hour.

"I've got to get back, they're going to start worrying abou-"

Suddenly, something stumbled into the road. He slammed his foot on the breaks, and the car screeched to a halt.

But not before knocking whoever was on the street back. He heard a soft "_Ooof!_" and then a dull groan.

Eric leapt out of the car.

"Oh my god, are you oh…kay…"

The body in the street shook itself, and slowly rose up, grasping the long weapon in claw like-hands.

It's eyes shown a bright white, it's clothing and body drenched in blood.

"_Speed_" Eric breathed, stepping forward.

It stepped back, looking terrified of the Cuban.

"_Turn back."_ Its voice was harsh, cold, and _familiar_, "_If you want to keep your life, __turn back__."_

It turned and ran off into the fog.

"Speed…Speed! Wait, where are you going!?" Eric chased after it, into the fog. He didn't' care where he was going, what he was getting himself into. All he wanted was to get his best friend back.

* * *

End Chapter One.

* * *

NOTE: Nacoda is my personal character. Go to my deviantART to get a full description of her (Link on my home page)


	2. Citadel

They don't belong to me. If they did, the new shows would be _much_ better (sorry fans, I'm not crazy for the new shows :o )

Enjoy :)

* * *

Citadel

* * *

Eric knew better then to run off into the mist blind, but at the moment he hadn't been thinking like a cop or a CSI or like a sane human being. His only thought was to the man that looked like Speed. He couldn't think, couldn't focus, couldn't…

Argh, what did it matter?

He could hear Arcadia's words in his head.

"_Go with haste, young man. Be alert, and be brave, and you'll find what you are looking for."_

She was right. He couldn't let Speed walk out of his life again, not without trying to find out what the _hell_ was going on. He just wasn't wired that way.

So against his better judgment, he ran blindly into the misty night.

* * *

He ran for what seamed like hours. His heart pulsed, and his blood ran hot, like lava in his veins. It hurt, the body not meant to do such things. And no matter how fit he was, it was still a hard run: trying to avoid randomly appearing boulders, and rocks, and running up and down.

He couldn't help but think of that old video game Speed would play in the dark of the night (and scoff at, despite jumping every three seconds) about a father looking for his daughter in some remote town in the middle of nowhere.

'_It was that Silent Hill game…the one he clutched my arm in when the game got too dark…'_ The thought made him laugh, despite his sharp loss of breath.

Imagine, comparing life to a video game! It sounded like something a _perp_ would do, not the well-educated CSI.

No, he was too _smart_ for that.

Then why had he run off into the fog like this? When he stopped, surrounded by fog and unable to see his hand in front of his face, he suddenly realized how stupid he had been. He hadn't even told Horatio where he was, hadn't even bothered to make sure that his gun was fully loaded, hadn't even brought his kit with him, (God forbid he found evidence…)

It was just a whole list of _don'ts_ and Delko couldn't help feeling foolish.

_Whoosh_

The noise made Delko swerve around.

_Click-click_

It sounded like Paws on wet cement. A horrible sent suddenly floated in the air. It smelled like…like…

"_Rotting flesh."_ The words rolled of his mouth smoother then he'd wanted them too.

All at once, something leapt out of the mist, careening for the younger CSI. His hand was on his gun in a heartbeat, his finger pulling the trigger faster then a whisper. The blasts echoed around the area, and became as loud as thunder claps. One of the things fell over, but two more took it's place. With every well placed shot, the things seamed to multiply. They snarled and bucked, like wild dogs that had happened on a wounded deer after a dry spell. Soon, he was surrounded from all sides by the horrible shadows that seemed to writhe like creatures in the muck of a swamp.

_Click-click-click_

"Damn it!" He cursed. The gun was out of bullets, and there were more of the Things then ever. They snarled and spat, saliva visibly dropping to the ground, but they never approached closer then a what the mist allowed them without being fully seen. Finally, one ran up and jumped on him, knocking them both down. Eric pushed back, holding the thing around the neck, and it screamed in both frustration and hunger. For once, Delko got to actually see what was attacking him.

It wasn't pretty. Actually, it was quite frightening. The thing looked like a skinned dog, with it's head upside down. It opened it's mouth, it's jaws snapping, trying to get at the Cuban's neck. A tongue lolled out and pressed against the flesh. The screams became even louder, and suddenly the tongue pulled back, became long and sharp, and thrust itself into Eric's shoulder.

His moth opened in a silent scream. The pain was…there was no description of it; it was just _awful_. It felt as if every blood vessel in his body had seemingly decided to explode, slowly and soundly.

He thought his eyes were boiling in is sockets. The thing seamed to laugh at his pain, and Delko crumpled into himself, waiting for the sweet release of the dog's fangs.

It didn't come. Only the shrill screams of dogs and the smell of old blood. He squeezed his eyes shut as a warm spray splashed over him. The…dogs. They must have been fighting about who would get the first bite. It sure sounded like it….

Suddenly, it was silent. All except the soft, wet _splats_ of feet. He forced his eyes open (despite the screaming pain in his head). The dark, hunched over figure stood over him, leaning on the staff with the curved blade. His eyes glowed an unholy white, and narrowed as he knelt down. The shadow placed a rough thumb under Delko's chin, and forced him to look up.

"What about "leave"…did you _not_ understand?" He spat angrily.

Delko tried to work his mouth. All he could muster were the pathetic twisting of his lips.

_The…poison…it's spreading…_

The pain was almost too much. He could feel every pore of his body _screaming_, like he had been thrown into a fire pit.

He blacked out.

* * *

The shadow huffed, and then tossed Delko's limp body over his shoulder. He could feel his mussels twitch in agony. He had to hurry...a few more moments, and Delko would be dead.

The shadow ran deep into the mist, and faster still, until the soft _splick-splick_ of blood covered feet couldn't be heard. The quickly rotting corpses stared on blankly with sewn-shut eyes...all except for one. The one that still gave a few shallow breaths of life. The yarn that held it's eyes together had pulled apart in the sturggle, and now, he opened hid eyes, looking around the bloodied area. He disregarded the courpses, and instead looking into the sky that seemed a forever grey. He looked forward, into the trees that led on from the road. On the side, lay a single flower, it's petal tips a vibrent blue. He pulled himself to it, a line of crimson following his body, and gently plucked it with his stubby paws. He sniffed...it smelled like...like...

_home..._

He died happy.

* * *

The flies didn't seam to care, however. They were too busy tending to the maggots that were now feeding on the revolting slices of flesh that were scattered around the area. Blood stained the ground, and even when the rain started, the crimson stayed imbedded to the soil.

* * *

_For maybe a moment, he wanted to kiss him. Just to see what it felt like, kissing your best friend. Would it be weird? Perhaps...most likely._

_What was more likely was that he would push him roughly away, scream, yell, curse…oh, it was just too horrible to think about…_

_He pushed the thoughts from his mind, and bent himself back over his work. Soil samples weren't going to analyze themselves, you know._

_

* * *

_

_Tim…_

_Speedle…._

_Speed…….._

"What?"

The rough voice jerked Delko from his dreams. His head throbbed, his body ached…well, at least he wasn't dead.

"Look, do you need me, or not? I was in the middle of something."

"You've got great bedside manor, Speed." Delko grumbled, trying to prop himself up on his elbows.

The pain felt like someone had punched him in the gut and shattered all of his ribs. He yowled, and nearly fell back. Luckily for him, a calloused hand caught him before he hurt himself anymore.

"Jesus, Eric!" Speed helped him back against the pillows, and propped him up so he could look around. "Take it slow. Grounder's are pretty strong, I'm amazed they didn't tear you to shreds. They did bruise a few ribs, however." Speed sat on the side of the bed, his hands folded in his lap.

"Really? Hadn't-" Eric coughed, and he felt his lungs dispel whatever was trapped in there. Phlegm piled in his mouth, and he swallowed it back down. "…Noticed…"

Speed smirked. "Still a wiseass, I see."

Eric looked up at him, studding the features of his face. He realized quickly that the thing he had hit in the road and the man sitting next to him on the bed looked totally different. While the Speed from earlier that night had had sharp, pointed fingers, fangs, and glowing eyes, this one had none of those features. This one had eyes that looked much, much too old for his age, and scars on his arms and face that just didn't look _normal_. The raggidy sweater this one wore looked three times to big, and was falling gently off his shoulder, which showed grey colored skin that looked as if it hadn't seen the sun in years.

Well, he did still have those weird cat eyes that had stared at him in the darkness. They weren't white anymore…they were a light brown, with a thin slit in the center. Still creepy, though...

"Speed…what are you…why?" Eric reached out, and touched his cheek, just to make sure he was there, and not a hologram.

Speed shook his head, and gently pushed him back against the bed. "Look…Eric, I know I've got a lot of explaining to do. And I will. But I can't explain anything If you haven't healed, it would just confuse you."

He stood, and pulled a warm blanket over Delko, tucking him in like a mother would do her own child.

"So, get some rest. We'll talk more in the morning. Okay?"

Eric, who suddenly felt as if he could sleep for ages, nodded, and pulled the blanket closer. He closed his eyes and was almost immediately asleep. Tim walked silently to the doorway, and with one final peak, sighed, and closed the door to the bedroom.

It was going to be a long week.


End file.
